


there’s nothing like this feeling (now that I’ve found you)

by seekrest



Series: Spideychelle Bingo [13]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Jewish Peter Parker, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, canon nudged to the left, what’s a holiday season without a little fake dating?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “You sure you’re okay to go? Won’t May want to spend time with you?” Michelle asks as a last minute out from her own foolish plan, only for that hope flounder when Peter shakes his head.“Nah, she’s got a shift with FEAST that night. It’s not like we celebrate Christmas anyway,” Peter says with a wink, Michelle playfully rolling her eyes.“Okay fine, I guess you get the honor of being my boyfriend for a night.”She expects a witty remark or some stupid joke, looking back at him only to be struck by the sincerity of his expression as he smiles at her.“Can’t wait.”
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Cindy Moon, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Spideychelle Bingo [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845310
Comments: 30
Kudos: 86
Collections: Twelve Days of Promptmas





	there’s nothing like this feeling (now that I’ve found you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perfectlystill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlystill/gifts).



> Happy birthday Emma!!!!! Hope you had a wonderful day!

“I want latkes.” 

Michelle smirks, looking over at Peter across her laptop. Finals sucked and she didn’t particularly care for this section of the library but at least it gave her an easy view of Peter Parker’s dumb face anytime he made random comments like this one.

“It’s eight in the morning,” Michelle says, moving her hand to take a sip of her now lukewarm tea. 

“So?” Peter says, Michelle glancing back at him and seeing the cheesy smirk on his face. “Carbs are always a good idea.”

“No complaints there,” Michelle replies, putting her mug down and moving her laptop down a little to lean forward - Peter doing the same as his grins.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page for this,” he says with a wink, Michelle holding back an eyeroll as he continues, “It’s good that we agree on the important things before the big day.”

“Shh,” Michelle says hurriedly, Peter having the audacity to laugh as she quickly looks around, only to be reminded why they chose this particular spot of the library to begin with considering how empty it is. 

“What? We gotta be  _ connected _ , MJ,” Peter whispers, Michelle actually rolling her eyes as she looks back at him. 

“We are connected, loser. My mom and dad know all about you already,” Michelle says without thinking, Peter’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

“They do?”

“Of course they do,” Michelle says in a rush, bringing her attention back to her laptop. “We’ve been friends since freshman year. You think I’d ask anyone else to pull of this stupid idea with?”

Peter looks contemplative, comically so as Michelle bites back a laugh. 

“Maybe I’m just the only stupid one to agree to it.”

“You said it, not me,” Michelle says as she grins, Peter smiling at her causing her stomach to do a funny little flip.

It was either an incredibly stupid or an incredibly smart plan, Michelle being too far into it to decide which is which. 

Michelle loved spending time with her mom’s side of the family — she got along with her cousins better, even if her aunts were just as nosy, and they were inherently better to visit by virtue of being in upstate New York rather than  _ New Jersey. _

But it was the Christmas Day dinner from the Jones clan that she was dreading to go to. 

Her dad’s annual Christmas Day dinner wasn’t fun by any means, not to Michelle anyway. It was a parade of endless questions and nosiness from aunts and uncles her dad rarely talked to throughout the year, yet felt obligated to attend anyway— Catholic guilt at its finest even if her dad hadn’t seen the inside of a confessional of his own will since  _ he _ had been in high school.

The fact that Michelle was an adult now, senior year of college and free from being forced to attend holiday functions was irrelevant - especially when it was also the one guaranteed time of year that she’d get to see her Grandma Maryanne.

Grandma Maryanne had been an actress when she was younger, lighting up Michelle’s childhood with endless stories of the glitz and the glamour of performing on the Broadway stage. It’d played no small part in inspiring Michelle and her own artistic pursuits, the secret dream of being an actress giving way to sketching and studio art. 

Despite how much she dreaded attending a dinner that was always a little too stuffy and formal than she would’ve liked, Michelle still went - dreading even more the Christmas that would come when Grandma Maryanne wouldn’t be a part of the festivities.

Yet Michelle had only herself to blame for the idea of bringing Peter along to the dinner— comforting herself that she’d have an answer to at least  _ one _ of the questions always thrown her way. 

“You sure you’re okay to go? Won’t May want to spend time with you?” Michelle asks as a last minute out from her own foolish plan, only for that hope flounder when Peter shakes his head.

“Nah, she’s got a shift with FEAST that night. It’s not like we celebrate Christmas anyway,” Peter says with a wink, Michelle playfully rolling her eyes.

“Okay fine, I guess you get the honor of being my boyfriend for a night.”

She expects a witty remark or some stupid joke, looking back at him only to be struck by the sincerity of his expression as he smiles at her.

“Can’t wait.”

  
  


* * *

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes. It is. It’s a big fucking deal,” Cindy Moon whispers to her furiously. Michelle wanted to roll her eyes but didn’t considering it was Cindy and she already knew how she’d react to that as Cindy continues, “you asked Peter to  _ pretend _ to be your boyfriend?”

“Why are you acting like I asked him to commit murder with me?” Michelle asks, a lady glaring at them in the aisle of the grocery store they’re in. Michelle just glares back, Cindy rolling her eyes at the pretentious suburban mom acting as if two college kids were in her way as she moves the shopping cart forward.

“Murder would actually make a lot more sense,” Cindy reasons, “murder is more understandable than you finally asking Peter out.”

“I didn’t ask him out,” Michelle says quickly, making a point of standing in the way of the snobby woman who just scoffs and sighs as Michelle pantomimes debating what can of beef broth she’s looking for before glancing back to Cindy. “We’re friends.”

Michelle has mercy on the woman and moves back to where Cindy is, the two of them barely stifling back giggles as the woman huffs and mutters something under her breath.

“Friends, sure. Wish all my friends looked at me the way Peter looks at you.”

“You’re making something out of nothing,” Michelle says dismissively. She has to, the secret-to-everyone-except-for-even-more-observant-than-she-is-Cindy-Moon being the only fall back she has to trying to deny the feelings she’s had for Peter over the years, feelings that she  _ cannot  _ afford to think might be reciprocated.

She had thought - for a moment, during their freshman year - that there would be something between them. But then Peter had met Johnny, Michelle had met Gwen and whatever chemistry between had fizzled back into an easy going relationship that had served as the foundation of their friendship for the past four years. 

The fact that they were both single and that he’d agreed to fake being her boyfriend for a family Christmas dinner so easily that it almost gave her whiplash was another thing she didn’t want to dwell on. 

“I’m making something out of  _ something _ . Honestly,” Cindy snorts, grabbing a pack of powdered donuts and plopping it into their shopping car, “it’d be better if you two just became friends who fuck and got over it.”

Michelle sighs, exasperated at Cindy and her bluntness even if it would be a lie that she hadn’t considered the possibility of becoming just that a few times through the years. Her and Peter’s friendship was comfortable as much as it was physical, a closeness that built from trusting each other with their secrets - her of the fear that she’d never be able to live up to Gayle, him of the spider variety and a guilt complex the size of Manhattan - but also proximity in the literal sense. 

They hung out all the time, mostly since Peter didn’t seem to have an interest in making friends just to disappoint them when he bailed on plans last minute because of Spider-Man and Michelle because she enjoyed his company more than she enjoyed making small talk with strangers at parties. Yet even when they would attend those parties, more often than not they would find themselves in each other’s orbit - Peter’s hand at the small of her back as they walked through the crowd or Michelle’s legs draped over his as they chatted with their friends on the couch. 

They held hands in the cold and had even slept together, in the most literal definition of the term, more times than she could count - especially after she finished patching up Peter from whatever bullshit he got caught up in with Spider-Man and crawled into bed with her, passing out before his head even left the pillow. 

Michelle shook her head, forcing away the memories and the feelings that she cannot afford to let herself dwell in - not now when she’s supposed to  _ pretend _ to be in love with him, not when it’s all about to be so painfully real. 

“We’re friends,” Michelle repeats, Cindy giving her a look but thankfully choosing not to argue with her about it - redirecting her attention to the pre-packaged naan they passed by. 

Cindy may have kindly dropped the subject but Michelle finds that even if she had been the one to want her to, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that makes her almost regret the plan they had in place. 

* * *

“How we doing?” Peter asks, shivering slightly as they huddle together on the balcony. Grandma Maryanne’s house may have been in New Jersey but it had a killer view of Manhattan, snowflakes intermingling with the twinkling lights of the city as Michelle shrugged.

“Good, I think. Sorry about my Uncle Nathan,” Michelle says with a grimace. Peter laughs, a clear sound that warms up Michelle’s insides despite the cold weather as he says, “It’s fine. I half-expected the third-degree.”

“They weren’t this way with Gwen,” Michelle mutters, Peter nudging her gently with his elbow.

“If you’re gonna try and compare  _ me _ to Gwen, you have to know I’m gonna lose.”

Michelle laughs, clearly Peter’s intention from the grin on his face - matching his smile as they both look out over the Hudson.

Breaking up with Gwen had been painful, but mutual - knowing from the minute that she’d been accepted to study abroad at Oxford that any chance of that beautiful, smart girl ever coming back to America was slim to none. 

She missed her, but she was still happy for her - inexplicably wondering what she would think of her choosing  _ Peter _ of all people to pretend to be her boyfriend.

Gwen was too smart, too fierce and too beautiful to be jealous. But like Cindy, Gwen had long suspected that there was something more to her relationship with Peter than Michelle wanted to admit.

“How are  _ you _ feeling? Any second thoughts?” Peter gently asks, bringing her out of her thoughts as she turns back to him. 

“Second thoughts?” 

“About asking me here. I know it’s a big deal and that this isn’t really your… favorite place to be,” Peter says, rubbing his hands together before folding them over his chest. “Your Grandma’s really nice though.”

“She  _ loves _ you,” Michelle says, an unexplainable thrill at that and of how easily the two of them had gotten along. It didn’t mean anything, really - Grandma Maryanne was the epitome of hospitality and Peter was raised by May Parker. She feels it all the same, an unmistakable pride in her voice as she continues, “If anything, that’s proof that we’re on the right track.”

Peter smiles, only for Michelle to notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he says, “She invited me to her New Years Eve party.”

Michelle’s eyebrow raises, tilting her head in surprise as she asks, “Really?”

Peter nods, chewing the inside of his cheek before clicking his tongue and saying, “Turns out it’s a hell of a party.”

“You could say that again,” Michelle says with a huff, surprised and a little confused for how Peter looks as she says, “Makes you almost forget that you’re in Jersey.”

Peter lets out a small little laugh but it’s quiet then, a not quite awkwardness falling between them as Michelle studies him.

“What’s wrong?”

Peter looks back up at her, searching her face for a moment as if he was trying to decide something - seemingly coming to some conclusion within himself when he finally says, “I uh, I was just wondering if you’d want me to come. You know, as your fake boyfriend.”

Michelle feels a warmth in her chest that she doesn’t want to dwell on too much, passing it off as leftovers from the glass of wine she’d had earlier that night as she says, “I mean, it’s not like they won’t believe it. Might be good, you know. Keep the show going.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, turning a little more to face her as Michelle does the same. “There’s just you know, one catch.”

“What’s that?” Michelle asks, her heart rate skyrocketing as she stares at him - feeling breathless in a way that she can only attribute to the cold as Peter holds her gaze.

“It’ll be New Years Eve. The countdown. It’ll uh, be a little suspicious if we just shake hands.”

Michelle smirks, the corner of Peter’s lips upturning but his eyes steadily focused on hers as she says, “Could start a new tradition?”

“If you want,” Peter says, his voice low and the hum of the party slowly fading into the background. “Some traditions aren’t so bad.”

Michelle swallows thickly, the air shifting between them in a way that’s heavy and light and almost sparkling as the snow gently continues to fall. 

She can see it in his eyes, something that she hadn’t dared to hope could actually be reciprocated, every instinct within her wanting to crack a joke or look away or pass it off again rather than risk getting hurt.

Whether it was the wine in her stomach, the cold all around her or the mood of the holiday season, Michelle takes a leap instead saying, “We should practice then, don’t you think?”

Peter’s eyebrows lift up slightly, his mouth turning into a smirk as he gets impossibly closer. 

“Yeah,” he says as Michelle moves towards him, “just to make sure we get it right.”

“Definitely. For science,” Michelle says lamely, only for Peter to laugh as he leans in even closer.

“ _ For science _ ,” he whispers, eyes half-lidded before they meet halfway, Michelle closing her eyes as she presses her lips against his. 

It’s a kiss that’s sweet, that’s slow, only for Michelle to pull him closer as it becomes anything but - Peter responding in kind as his arms around her. The forecast called for freezing temperatures but Michelle can’t feel anything but heat - the warmth of Peter pressed against her, the feel of his tongue against hers, and a fervor building in the pit of her stomach to want to do more than just kiss him.

They finally part, coming up for air as Michelle rests her forehead against his as she tries to catch her breath.

“I don’t know about you,” Peter says quietly, Michelle lifting up her head to meet his gaze, “but I think I need more data.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Michelle says with a smile, the hand that was on her waist bringing her closer as Peter leans in.

“It’s for  _ science _ , MJ.”

Michelle laughs into their second kiss, and smiles into their third, snickering to him as says, “I guess I’ll give you the honor of being part of your research.”

Michelle goes to kiss him again, only for Peter to lean back - eyes sparkling and a look in them that shoots off fireworks in her chest, wondering now how she ever thought for a second that he didn’t feel about her the way she did about him as he grins.

“Can’t wait.”


End file.
